I Hate My Pancreas
by RoyboyX
Summary: Though her life seems to be taking a much better turn since she escaped with the Michael, Oksana still has a major problem she will have to fend off for the rest of her life: her diabetes. A late night rant leads to feelings explored. Set between Promise and Rain on the Evil and on the Good.


I _hate_ my pancreas.

The one thing I hated most about my life other than being a sex slave was my diabetes. It was hard enough to keep myself from eating all the food in sight or constantly needing to empty my bladder. I most certainly did _not_ need to have this additional issue, on top of being trafficked as a human.

What was even worse about this was that I had to depend on my captors for insulin. Since my body was incapable of regulating its own blood sugar, I needed to do such horrid things for my captors. I was their maid, sex slave and cook, and when I did something for these _debils_ they would not give me more than a day's worth of insulin. It kept me from escaping.

Soon, the boy came, and I was told to gain his trust and keep him around. He seemed to have more of an attitude than I did; or at least he was less fearful of these men than I was. He was also very intelligent, which I insisted could get him killed. I had to like him despite our rough start.

If only he could have had his first glimpse of me when I wasn't injecting myself with insulin… I hated depending on the white sludge. That boy nursed my wounds from the beating the _debils_ gave to me, and later helped to inject the stupid hormones into me. I hadn't known that boy, but he gave me a sense of purpose and care I hadn't felt since my abduction.

The way he handled the injection when he injected me reminded me of my mother, and how she did so with care when I was only seven years old. Stupid modeling contest, and stupid fucking diabetes… My only satisfaction from captivity came from injecting my captor with insulin. If only he was the one who depended on it.

I let out a small laugh as I think of these things while using the lavatory. I have been here for ten minutes, ranting silently and emptying myself. Ten minutes.

It makes me slam my fists on the wall on frustration and scream out. I forgot that it's late at night, and Michael and his uncle will be asleep. I hope I didn't wake them up.

"Oksana?" I hear Michael calling out my name. Realizing he's coming, I quickly lock the door.

"Don't come in, I'm fine, something just fell."

The door turns and Michael comes in. I guess I didn't lock it well enough. I cover myself with my hands.

"Michael, I appreciate privacy."

"Oksana, you're crying."

I realize that I have been. Stupid emotions.

"I'm fine, Michael. Go back to bed."

"No, you aren't. You're upset about something, what?"

"Go away, please, Michael."

"I'm not moving anywhere."

Letting out a moan, I fiercely kissed Michael and then held him close to my chest.

"I don't know why, Michael! Why must it be _me_ who has the diabetes? Why couldn't that horrible man have it?" I was shouting now, letting out the tears.

"Sh, ssh… it's okay." He said, stroking my hair. "Diabetes can infect anyone, it's just genetics. It's not something like drugs, or alcoholism, where the issue's usually your fault. It's natural, like things you are so good at you might say you were born to do, your heritage, or if you were a lesbian or I were gay."

His hand covered mine, and I felt his thumb massaging my knuckles.

I held a capsule of insulin in my hand, and was quickly tempted to smash it into the sink and see the stupid hormones leak all over the floor. I decided to do just that.

"This shit sickens me…" I whispered.

"Oksana, NO!" he managed to grab my hand quickly enough and took the insulin from me.

"Don't do something stupid, please…"

His voice, it was so soft and caring. I couldn't stand it. I started to cry more, and kissed Michael again, pressing our foreheads together.

"You… remind me so much of my mother."

He responded by taking me into his arms. "You are the only person… in so long… who has cared for me this much, since I lost my mother." I shook.

I think he whispered something, but if he did, I didn't hear it. Tightly gripping his flesh, I whispered into his ear.

"I love you, Michael…" Would he say it back? Did all that kissing on the train mean nothing?

"And me too, Oksana." And I knew I would be alright.

…

_A/N: "debils" is a Czech insult meaning stupid/retarded person, asshole or jerk._


End file.
